Drinking Game
by Marzi
Summary: Even as she set the bottle down, he didn't quite understand. Games Series
1. Chapter 1

A/N The chapters are short, but there'll be one up every day. Enjoy

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1 

He was lost in thought, like usual. Brown furrowed, lips pursued into a slight frown. One of his hands caressed a razor at his side, mind filled with dark thoughts.

Sweeney didn't take notice of Mrs. Lovett's approaching footsteps, even though he was seated in her shop. He assumed she had other things to do, and was simply cleaning up. Even after hearing the clink of a bottle on the table, it took him a moment to realize what she had set down.

She had already wandered off to somewhere else in the shop, leaving him to contemplate the gin bottle. The very full gin bottle. She had taken to buying it bulk since taking in Toby, and very rarely did he see an untouched bottle.

Why had she set it before him?

At the sound of her returning footsteps, Sweeney looked at her. "What is this, Mrs. Lovett?" He growled.

"Can't'cha tell Mr. T?"

He simply stared at her, expecting an answer.

She clicked her tongue against her teeth, setting down two shot glasses. "S'a drinking game."

"I don't recall agreeing to play."

"Ya don't agree." She laughed. "S'a challenge Mr. T." Mrs. Lovett sat down across from him, opening the bottle.

A challenge? She was actually challenging him to a drinking game? He eyed the bottle warily, then her. Surely she knew he could hold more liquor then her? Did she think he was a light weight, after everything he'd gone through?

"What are the stakes?" He found himself asking, disregarding his normal desire for solitude and quiet.

"The stakes?" She sounded surprised.

"Well there's no use playing a game if you don't win something."

"Oh," she filled the glasses. "I didn't think on that."

Her tone implied otherwise, Sweeney snorted at the remark. "If I win…" he began, taking the proffered shot from Mrs. Lovett. "If I win…"


	2. Chapter 2

2

"How 'bout," for cutting him off Mrs. Lovett was sent a glare that she ignored. "we keep it a secret until the end. Wothco say about tha'?"

Sweeney swirled the glass in his hand before sending it, burning, down his throat. "Agreed."

A small smile graced her lips as she threw back her own glass before refilling the both of theirs.

"So, Mrs. Lovett," he merely took a modest sip from the glass. "Why did you think to challenge me?" His tone was conversational, but she could tell how interested he was in the answer.

"I don' know.. A whim?" Her glass seemed to roll across her lips before ending upon the table, empty. "Best hurry Mr. T, or this'll take all night."

"Patience luv," he growled, finishing the glass. The damn smile didn't leave her face, causing his third shot to go down fast. Screw their agreement! "If I win, you tell me why you asked."

She raised an eyebrow. "I was challengin', an' I already told you."

He rolled his eyes, a hand caressed the razor at his side. Mrs. Lovett smile turned into a smirk.

"If I win, you have to give me your razors." Her shot went down smoothly.

Sweeney's nostril's flared, and his hand gripped the holster at his side. Was she drunk already? "Fine." He snapped, nearly spilling his gin in his anger. She nearly laughed at him.

"Ya gunna lose Mr. T."

"Oh no pet, no I wont." A devilish smile appeared on his face as he accepted more alcohol.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Wots that look?"

"I've decided to keep my bet a secret."

"Ya already said ye wanted to know why I asked!"

He waggled a finger at her. "You said you already answered, so it was nullified."

She gave a huff of annoyance, tapping her nails on the table. "That isn't fair Mr. T."

"Oh?" He purred, taking it upon himself to pour more of the gin. "You haven't even told me how one wins this game."

"I thought it was obvious." She mumbled into her drink.

"Then perhaps you should clarify, as I don't think as you do."

Mrs. Lovett's lips pursed. "Ye win if ya can walk an' talk once the bottle's empty."

"Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney purred once more. "The bottle is half empty, and I hear little problem with either of our speech."

"Then once it's empty, we'll have to stand."

"Really?"

"Really." She rolled her eyes at his foolishness.

"When we stand will we be retrieving another bottle?" One of his fingers traces the rim of his glass.

"Only if one of us can walk that far."

"With such a small bottle before us, I believe one of us can make it."

"You have that much faith?" She teased.

"I have that much knowledge." He amended, bringing his cup up to his lips.

"What makes you so knowledgeable?"

"What makes you so faithful?"

She sucked in a quick breath and held it, staring at him. Was he really asking? Or was he simply mimicking her? Their eyes locked, Sweeney's smirk met with Mrs. Lovett's shock.

"Do I need to get another bottle just to get the answer out of you?"

"Maybe." She let her breath out.

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A/N Heh.. The real drunkenness starts up in the next chapter. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Thank you all for your lovely reviews! Pardon OOC drunkenness (if such a thing exists).. I just found writing this highly entertaining.

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3

They kept the banter up, always dodging around any direct questions. It was well into their second bottle they decided to reevaluate the situation. Mainly because they couldn't remember what they had said before.

"Wots you starin' at s'T?" Mrs. Lovett drawled, leaning on the table, head propped up by a hand.

Sweeney's back rested against the booth, and one of his hands remained on the table, clutching his shot glass. His squinted his eyes, focusing them on Mrs. Lovett, or really, trying to. "You." He snapped.

She made a 'tch' sound. "Can' talk like tha'! Use more words sos we know who talks better more!"

"I do." His eyes were narrowed, he was seeing double.

Mrs. Lovett giggled at him. "Ya blinds m'T?"

"No!" He pouted.

"I thinks ya is." It almost sounded like she was scolding him.

Sweeney banged his fist against the table, and pushed himself up onto shaky legs. "Not!"

Slouching down in her seat, Mrs. Lovett had to tilt her head back to look at him properly. "You say more when you isn't drunk m'T! An' tha's not much."

He leaned over the table, knocking over the empty gin bottle. "You're short." Was all he managed to say.

"Am not!" She said indignantly, face turning red.

"Is so." Sweeney reprimanded.

Putting both her hands on the table, Mrs. Lovett attempted to lift herself into a standing position. But on account of the ground shaking and the walls spinning, she grabbed onto Sweeney's outstretched head to steady herself.

She effectively smashed his face into the table, and fell back onto her chair.

Now collapsed on the table, Sweeney attempted to push himself up. With Mrs. Lovett running her hands through his hair, it became a much more difficult task.

"You broke my nose." He said indignantly.

"Don't sound broke." She continued to twirl her fingers in his hair.

"It is!" He insisted, finally jerking himself away from her and righting himself. Drunkenly grasping for one of her hands, he placed it on his nose. "See?"

"I'm feeling." She stated, arm completely limp with his fingers wrapped around its wrist.

"Well?" Sweeney asked, still pointlessly holding her hand to his face. The one arm holding up his weight began to quiver.

He let out a yelp when she pinched his nose between her thumb and forefinger. "I think it's fine!"

"If not!"

She giggled at his voice, changed by her grip on his nose. "Wait!" She exclaimed, nearly smacking him in the face as she pulled her hand away from him.

He fell back onto the table, face first.

"M'T!" Mrs. Lovett chided, staggering to her feet. Sweeney didn't attempt to lift himself form the table again, and instead mumbled something against the wood. "I can make it be'er." Taking hold on his head, she lifted him up so that his face was in front of hers.

"How?" His face was smooshed between her hands, making it difficult for him to see or talk.

"I'an kiss it!"

"Can't."

"Can."

"Can't." He said defiantly, though he was being held up by Mrs. Lovett, and she had complete control of whether it happened or not.

"Why?" She finally pouted.

"'Cos, tha's wot I was goi'n do when _I_ won."

"Oh." She frowned. "Thens.. I'a need yer raszorsh."

"No!" In a drunken attempt of escape, Sweeney jerked himself backward, fell into a seated position, and then scrambled out of the booth and stumbled towards the shop door.

"I's won!" She snapped, annoyed at nearly having lost her balance during his escape attempt. Toppling her chair, Mrs. Lovett headed after him as he attempted to open the door.


	4. Chapter 4

4

"You locked it." Sweeney accused Mrs. Lovett when she stumbled up to the door next to him.

"Not." She held out a hand. "Yer friends."

"Wev both standin'."

"So?"

"No one's lost yet Mrs. Lovett!" He tapped her on the nose.

"M'names Nellie, an' careful! M'nose is broken."

"Your nose in't broken. Mine is!"

"I though't 'as mine?"

"No."

Both leaning heavily on the door, they stared at one another, trying to make sense of their silence. Nellie grinned.

"Firs' ter yer sho' wins!" Though she nearly broke the door in her effort to get outside, Nellie was no longer quite aware of what she was winning. Quite oblivious as she, Mr. Todd raced after her.

The stairs turned out to be more devious than the doorknob was to Sweeney.

"Make yer stairs stop movin'!" She growled, clinging to the banister as she attempted to climb up the stairs.

"No." He snapped, leaning on the wall of the shop as he staggered up after her.

"Yes, or I'll push you down the stairs."

"Yern't strong 'nuff." He retorted.

Just to prove him wrong, Nellie spun around and gave him a hard push in the chest, losing her balance in the process. Both fell back down the stairs, though luckily they had only made it up two.

Still dazed from the quick tumble to the ground, Sweeney blinked, trying to clear the stars from his vision.

"Tolds'a." Nellie said from on top of him, where she had landed.

Surprisingly he didn't think of her as all that heavy.

"I won." He stated.

"Whys tha'?" She asked, moving her hands up to his hair. Her hands began to run through it as they did in the shop.

"'Cos s'my shop."

"We was in my shop when we started!" Nellie curled her hands into fists, pulling on his hair and making his eyes water. "'Sides, I'm on top!"

"Soon t'be mistaken pet!" He wrapped his arms around her and attempted to roll over, causing her to squeal in shock. Sweeney only succeeded halfway, with them ending upon their sides, facing one another.

"Sos 'i a tie m'T?" Her grip on his hair loosened, though she kept her hands were they were.

"No."

"No?"

"S'no such thin' as a tie!"

"Yer wearin' one right now."

"Oh."

"Oh," she repeated, hands sliding down from his hair to the sides of his face.

"Ah ah," Sweeney reminded her. "Tha's if I win. You.. Forn. Fore… formight?" He forced the word out, still getting it wrong.

"Yes."

Summoning up more strength, he rolled once again, pinning her to the ground. Sweeney smirked down at her. "You lose."

Even in her drunken state, Nellie knew that as Sweeney pressed his lips against hers, she had won.

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A/N Only one more chapter after this I'm afraid, but I have some other news. I'm thinking about starting a little 'Game' series, y'know, just some Sweenett fluff stories. I would write them on the weekends and post 'em on the weekdays.. I was just wondering if any of my lovely readers (well, reviewers since I'm going to need your opinion) would be interested in reading them. There's a few ideas bouncing 'round my skull, but I don't really know if I should set to work on them. Reviews much appreciated! 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Um.. wow. I have gotten so many reviews that if I get just as many as the last chapter, it will be the most I've ever gotten. And this is by no means the longest story I've ever written. Thank you, every one of you who reviewed, and told me you would like to see more fluff stories. There's going to be a little oneshot up this weekend (slightly different 'style' than this story) then come Monday I'll start posting another little thing like this. It has to do with hide and seek.. (which I believe is similar toa game called Sardines in England)

I'm a little iffy on this chapter.. but sadly enough, they aren't drunk anymore, so maybe that's the only reason. Once more, thank you all SO much! Onto the -sniffle- last chapter.

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5 

Nellie hated the sun. The light coming in from her window seemed to smother her face, pressing upon her eyelids rather than gently laying across them. Her head pounded with a fierce headache, and she nearly let out a hiss of pain. Her fingers curled, digging her nails into something cool. Not caring to see what it was, she pressed her head against it, hoping it would cure her of her nausea.

"That hurts." A voice said softly, sounding hoarse. A cool hand moved her nails.

Her eyes snapped open, sending a thousand blinding needles into her brain. Groaning, she turned lifted her head and squinted at the shape next to her.

"Mr. T?" She croaked.

Sweeney was lying in her bed, sheets down by his waist from her sitting up. One of his arms was draped across his face to block the sunlight, the other still held one of her hands.

They stared at one another.

Suddenly giving a shriek of surprise, Nellie grabbed the sheets around and pulled them up to her bare chest.

He gave a groan at her high pitched sound. "Don't do that." Having jerked herself away from his grasp in her made dash for cover, Sweeney used his now free hand to pull the covers up higher. Done with the task of keeping himself at least half covered, he began to fiddle with the sheets that were hastily pulled around her, as if thinking of removing them.

Feeling frightened, and a little worried about his unchastely nature, Nellie bit her lip. "You ain't mad Mr. T?" She was still scared, even though her heart seemed to skip a beat as she felt his fingers brush her thigh through the covers.

"I find it very hard to be anything with this headache." His wandering hand dropped back onto the bed.

"Oh."

"Oh indeed Mrs. Lovett, why did you bring out the gin last night?"

Feeling nauseous just standing on her knees, she lowered herself onto the bed once more, rearranging the sheets back around the both of them. "I didn't think you'd do it."

He let out a soft laugh. "That isn't what you said last night."

"You remember last night?" She grumbled.

"Vaguely. There were stairs."

Nellie frowned as she tried to sort through her foggy memories. "I pushed you."

"That wasn't very nice." His tone was bland, as if he honestly didn't care.

"I fell down too."

"It's what you deserved." She could hear laughter in his voice that time.

Nellie pouted, and, feeling adventurous, placed a hand on his chest. Much to her surprise he lowered his arm and took her hand.

"I won," Sweeney stated, bringing up her hand to his mouth so he could kiss it.

A distressing cry suddenly broke through the house, causing the bed's occupants to narrow their eyes as their headaches throbbed.

"Ya did luv, but Toby's the one who lost."

"So that _was_ the last bottle we took on the way here."

"It was." Nellie rested her head against his shoulder, perfectly content to sleep off her hangover.

He should be more upset, Sweeney knew. But he found himself caring less and less about how he _should_ be reacting and how he was. After all, when he had still been sober he had planned on kissing her. Then it wasn't necessarily because he secretly desire to do so, but because he thought it would be fun to taunt her. Though, it seemed alcohol had some secret component in it, that when consumed in abundance could change your views. Or maybe that was just being drunk. He hardly cared though, and at the moment he was perfectly content to stroke Nellie's hair as she went back to sleep. She had spent quite a bit of drunken time messing up his, making him wonder what she found so fascinating about it.

Sweeney let out a long sigh, he shouldn't be doing this much thinking with such a terrible hang over. His eyes slowly drifted close, and he felt his own breathing matching starting to match Nellie's.

Then Toby knocked ever so _loudly_ on the door before poking his head in. "Mum, it's nearing' noon, an' I know s'Sunday an' all but…"

Sweeney wanted to yell at the boy for disturbing him, but the shocked look on his face was enough to make up for it. He continued to stroke the baker's hair as she snuggled closer to his chest, disturbed by the sound of Toby's entrance.

"The gin's gone, isn't it?" Sweeney said, fully enjoying the place he was in. "Once we're up I'm sure we'll go to market and get some more."

_The games Mrs. Lovett come up with will no doubt be better with it, than without._


End file.
